


ghouls 'n ghosts.

by uncaringerinn



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Demon Billy Hargrove, Ghost Steve Harrington, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncaringerinn/pseuds/uncaringerinn
Summary: the kids fuck around with a ouija board, and trap billy and steve in a basement. that's it. that's the plot.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 3
Kudos: 85





	1. one.

“So, you’re like, a demon?”

“Are all ghosts this fucking stupid or is it just you?”

Steve winces, ethereal shoulders pulled up to his ears. “Listen, I’ve never met a demon before-”

“Are you fucking joking? What kinda fucking ghost _are_ you?”

“The _regular_ kind, asshole,” Steve sneers. “I thought you guys were supposed to have hooves.”

“Jesus _Christ_.” Billy, which if you ask Steve, is a dumb fucking name for a demon, groans.

“Can you even _say_ that?” Steve asks, incredulous. He drifts over to the Ouija board, stares down at the letters.

“I just fucking did, didn’t I?” The demon rolls his eyes, rusty-red, kicks a heel against the floorboards. “This is fucking _dumb_. Idiot fucking _teenagers_.” He comes to stand by Steve, flicks his finger against the planchette.

“Quit making so much noise, man. They’ll never come back down here to seal the portal if you’re causing a s _cene_.” Steve scolds,exasperated and whiny.

“You think I wanna be stuck in this plane with you for the rest of fucking eternity? _No_.” Billy shoves the board clear off the table.

“ _Dude_ -”

Billy hurls a half-empty glass of water at him. It does nothing; swoops through Steve to shatter against the wall. “I’m about to throw a _fit_.”

Steve’s black-gaping eyes widen; he floats back from the table, palms up. “About to? Seems like you’ve already started,” he mumbles.

“What was that, Casper?” Billy asks, snake-like tongue slithering out, licks suggestively over white-pointed teeth.

“Hey, fuck you, man.” Steves face screws up at Billy’s display. “Fucking put that thing away. It’s fucking _obscene_. What’re you, an incubus?”

“Do I _look_ like an incubus?”

“I don’t fucking _know_ -”

“So goddamn _stupid_ -”

Steve frowns; he’s been manifested so long he’s starting to drip ectoplasm all over the throw rug.

“That’s _disgusting_.”

“I can’t _help_ it. We wouldn’t even be _stuck_ here if you hadn’t scared those kids so bad that they left without saying _goodbye_.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“Yes, dickhead. It is.” They’re never gonna get his slime outta the carpet. Steve sighs, he _hates_ Halloween.


	2. two.

Billy fucking _knows_ the passing of time is irrelevant to him, but he’s always been raucous and impatient. Being trapped in this basement by a bunch of stupid, thrill-seeking kids with nothing but a moping ghost for companionship only succeeds in making him more irritable.

The ghost, _Steve_ , is hovering sadly over by the bookshelves, gross puddle of slime growing beneath him with every miniscule drop of ectoplasm leaking out from the haze of mist where his knees should be. Steve’s staring at ragged spines, eyes carefully tracing over every letter. Billy occasionally sees him reach a transparent hand out to touch a certain book, only to abort the movement halfway.

“Man, why don’t you just _take_ one already?” Billy asks, out of shear boredom, when he watches Steve yank his hand back from another book.

Steve turns to him, blackhole eyes wide behind too big granny glasses. “I’ll—” he bites his lip, shrugs his sweatered, ghostly shoulders, “I’ll _ruin_ them.”

“Tragic,” Billy says, monotone and disinterested.

“Hey, dickhead, you’re the one who _asked_.”

“‘Cause I’m bored as shit and this fucking basement doesn’t even have anything _cool_ in it. Where’s the dead cats? The pentagrams? These stupid kids summon a _demon_ and there isn’t even any _proper_ devil worshipping going on. It’s a _waste_ of my goddamn talents.”

Steve shifts away from the bookshelf, but only a little, crosses his arms over an argyle-covered chest. “This must be _so hard_ for you,” he bemoans, sarcastic.

Billy gives him a toothy smile, tongue plying at sharp edges. “How did you die anyway?”

Offended, Steve curls his lips in a sneer, runs long fingers through wispy hair. “You can’t just fucking _ask_ someone that. What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”

“Just answer the question, dummy.” Billy goads, inching closer to Steve. “You look pretty lame. Starving-artist, sad-poet type.” Billy reaches out one red-hued hand. They both come from different planes, so he half expects his fingers to slide through thin air, but they don’t. Billy’s nail catches on the swell of Steve’s lower lip, tugs down on it meanly. “C’mon, tell me. You off yourself ‘cause no one wanted to read your tear-soaked pages of self-loathing? They hate your mediocre, uninspired paint smears?”

Irate, Steve swats Billy’s hand away. “ _No_.”

Billy laughs, cruel and unapologetic. “Well?”

Steve fidgets for a moment, looks embarrassed.

“Crushed by a vending machine? Killed by a cow?” Billy supplies, curiosity peaked. “C’mon, pretty boy, spit it out.”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning,” Steve mumbles, sheepish. “The heating unit in my apartment was faulty and I didn’t know.”

When Billy laughs this time it’s less out of cruelty and more out of surprise. “Wow, that really _is_ fucking lame.”

Steve doesn’t have pupils, but Billy can tell he rolls his eyes. “Okay, Hell Boy. How’d you become a demon?” He asks, as he gestures to Billy’s horns, cork-screwed and burnt-smoky grey. The left one is cracked off at the end, rough and craggy. 

Billy grins, slow. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Dude, that’s not _fair_.”

“I’m a _demon_ , you moron. I’m not _supposed_ to be fair.”


	3. three.

“That curly-headed freak keeps peaking in here,” Billy says, scraping a nail down the side of one of the bookshelves.

Steve shoots him a dirty look, one that makes him look like an angry librarian, ridiculous glasses taking up most of his ghostly face. “That’s mean.”

“Hey, those fucking idiots got us _stuck_ down here, dumbass. I’m not trying to be _nice_ to them.”

“Maybe if you were nice, they would come down and finish the fucking session, _dumbass_.”

Billy snorts, reaches around the edge of the bookshelf to knock down some of the thicker novels. Smirks when he sees Steve glare, open-mouthed at the blatant disrespect. “Sorry, does this _bother_ you?”

“You can’t just _destroy_ other people’s things!”

“You’re so s _tupid_ , sweetheart,” Billy purrs, rips the pages out of one of the books. “I can do whatever I _want_.”

Before Steve can say anything in response, a loud bang sounds from the other side of the wall. A shaky voice calls out, “All beings from other planes, I banish you!”

Billy laughs, loud and full of rasp. “That’s not how it works, boy. Come in here and do it _right_.”

There’s a squeak, maybe; the sound of retreating footsteps up the stairs. Billy laughs again, softer this time, amused.

Steve hovers over, slaps the ripped pages out of Billy’s hands. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Listen, Moaning Myrtle,” he says, stepping into Steve’s space, feels the slick drip of goo on the bare skin of his foot. “They summoned _me_. You just tagged along for the ride.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh, then what happened?”

Steve blinks, works his jaw, pushes his glasses up his nose. “I was hanging around, you know, the Spectral Gaps. Saw that they were summoning— _whatever_. And I—It’s just that—”

“It’s just _what_?” Billy spits, nasty and unkind.

“This is the house I grew up in,” Steve admits, quiet. “I thought it would be nice to visit.”

This scene is so pathetic that Billy knows he should feel bad, should apologize for being insensitive; he’s not _going_ to, though. Wants to make it worse, has his mouth half open to say something really shitty—

The kid is back, this time clutching a crucifix and a family bible, which is _annoying_ , yelling, “All beings from other planes, I _banish_ you!” His whole body shakes as he shouts.

Steve floats idle, confusion pinching his brows.

Billy reaches over and plucks a book off the shelf before chucking it at the teenager. “Still _wrong!_ ”

The kid screams as he flees back up the stairs.

When Billy focuses his attention back on the ghost in front of him, Steve is staring at where he’s oozing all over Billy’s lower legs. He drifts back, “Oh, _shit_. I forgot about the ectoplasm.”

Billy leans forward, tongue wagging out, suggestive and crude. “I’ve been covered in worse.”

“ _Gross_.” Steve gags, shoving Billy back. “That’s so fucking _gross_.”

Billy cackles, sits on the floor amongst pages from _TheOnce and Future King_ , starts to learn the art of origami.

After a few minutes, Steve floats back. “So, like, where are the rest of your clothes?” Gestures vaguely to the scrap of gold-embroidered black fabric draped over Billy’s essentials.

“You’re just now asking about that?” Billy says, not looking up from his mangled creation.

“It just seems so-” Billy can see Steve’s arms flapping about in his periphery, “I guess it’s just not what I imagined.”

“You imagine demons a lot, Stevie?”

“ _No_ ,” Steve asserts, flustered.

Flicking his ugly paper monstrosity through the air, Billy smirks at him. “Maybe I should dress like you, yeah? Bet I would look _so handsome_ in that argyle sweater of yours.”

“Hey, _fuck_ you. There’s nothing wrong with how I dress.”

“Is that what your mommy told you?”

Steve crumples Billy’s failed origami attempt, throws it back at him. “Sorry I don’t let my dick flap about beneath a shittier version of a hand towel.”

“Do you even still _have_ a dick?” Billy asks, eyes dipping to Steve’s crotch.

Steve smiles, vicious in his own boring way. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

**Author's Note:**

> i posted these to tumblr like. two years ago? anyway. here's three chapters with no resolution! 
> 
> title from the old ass video game i used to play as a kid on sega genesis.


End file.
